


Scotch

by LittleSweetCheeks



Series: While We Sleep [12]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Confused Hotch, Dave being Dave, Dreams, Gen, Old Friends, friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 02:24:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13777680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSweetCheeks/pseuds/LittleSweetCheeks
Summary: Imaginary Dave wasn't any less irritating.





	Scotch

He figured it was the smell of cigars as he’d stepped into the old club that had brought memories of his friend to the surface. A glance at his phone told Aaron he’d met Dave thirty years ago today. Taking a seat in a booth in the back, Aaron took in the atmosphere while he was waiting on a waitress to make her way over. The woman startled him when she appeared, tall and brunette with a bright smile. He had to shake himself when he realized she’d asked him a question. “I’m sorry, was lost in my own mind there for a moment.”

He thought he could see her blush in the dim light. “It’s okay, Sir.”

“Just a scotch tonight, please.”

“I’ll be right back with that then.”

Aaron watched her walking away, thinking to himself that the woman was just the kind that would have had Dave forcing him to play wingman, so he could try and pick her up. He chuckled and shook his head to himself, Dave was always dragging him out for that.

The ambiance of the place was just what he’d needed for a day like he was having, remembering the past- all that had been, was, and could have been. By the time he made his way home, Aaron was mentally drained from the solo trip down memory lane. Checking that the house was locked up and Jack was fine, he crawled into bed and sank almost instantly into slumber.

==

“Planning on using all the hot water in there, Aaron?”

The voice, as well as the snarky tone, startled Aaron mid-scrub and he jumped, losing traction on the shower’s tiled floor and slipping, banging his head into the wall. “Ow! Shit!” He tried to keep his balance but eventually gave in, letting his body land with a thud on the tiles before trying to carefully stand back up. “Dave?! What the hell are you doing in my house?!” Aaron rinsed before pushing the shower door open, glaring at his friend through the steam.

Dave didn’t look particularly apologetic, propped with one shoulder against the doorframe, ankles crossed. “I’m not.”

“You’re not? Trying to tell me I’ve gone mad now?”

“No, I’m pretty sure if that was going to happen, it would have happened a long time ago.” Amusement laced his words.

Aaron shot him a dirty look, stepping out onto the rug and reaching for a towel, not in any hurry to hide himself. If his ass of a friend was going to stand there and watch, he wasn’t about to try and be shy. “Then why?”

It was a smirk Aaron had spent decades fighting the urge to smack off the older man’s face. “Like I said, I’m not here. You really dream of _showering_? How dull.”

“Dream?”

Dave waved up and down Aaron’s body. “At least you don’t add the gory details in your dreams.”

“What?” Aaron looked down at himself. None of his extensive myriad of scars were present anywhere. Twisting and turning, he tried to check other areas and sure enough, nothing but unblemished skin. “What the hell?”

“I suppose I can forgive the boring dream for that. I honestly would have thought you’d carry those things with you everywhere, even in sleep.”

Finishing drying off, Aaron brushed past him, stunned still when Dave appeared on his bed. His head whipped around, staring at the now empty doorway and then back to the bed, Dave had that irritating smirk on again. “How?”

“Dream?” He reminded slowly, like he was talking to a particularly simple person. “Keep up now, Aaron.”

He had his pajama pants in one hand. “But… _Why_?”

Dave shrugged. “That’s your question to answer.” He patted the bed. “Come sit.”

Not seeing any reason to refuse, Aaron took a seat with his back against the headboard, letting his head roll to the side to face his friend. “We met thirty years ago today.” He observed.

The older man nodded. “I remember. You were so eager to please, like a puppy over a ball.”

He scoffed. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

Dave shrugged.

“I was thinking about you earlier, about how much we’ve been through.”

“It’s been a lot.”

“I know.” He sighed. “Do you remember…that case in Oregon? It was about two years after I joined the team.”

Dave grunted in affirmation.

“One night, on the jet on the way home. You were already asleep at one end and the others were at the other, talking softly. I’d gotten up to get coffee and I overheard them complaining.”

When his friend didn’t continue right away, Dave glanced over. “Complaining?”

It was Aaron’s turn to softly smirk. “It had been Prentiss’ turn to be injured. If I recall correctly, she’d taken a boot to the jaw. There was talk about how often each of the team got hurt, they were going from person to person and eventually came to you.”

“Me? When have they ever seen me get hurt?”

“It seemed that was precisely the problem.” Aaron thought a moment. “I can remember wanting so badly to tell them.”

“I’da boxed you ‘round the ears.”

“Yeah.”

“I still hate Oregon.”

“I know.” The quiet filled the room again. “You were the first teammate I really thought I would watch die.”

Dave didn’t reply, letting the silence carry on.

“I was so scared.” His voice was soft, cracking at the end. “And then Boston later… and Spencer… Garcia, Prentiss, JJ, Morgan. I was too attached. I had nightmares about losing you on a case and then, as each of the others got seriously hurt, the nightmares just added.” His chin fell to his chest as he remembered each of those moments in succession, like a horrific photo album in his mind made up of broken bodies.

“Aaron…”

“You were…always different. But the others, they were my responsibility…”

“Aaron…” His voice was sharper.

“I failed over and over again.”

“Aaron!” He shouted.

“What?!” Aaron shouted back.

“Will you just shut up a minute?” Dave snapped.

Aaron stared at his friend.

“I don’t remember a lot about Oregon, I never really did. That guy had done a number to me before he decided to start shooting at me. I might have gotten away if I hadn’t fallen down that bank.”

“Two shots, Dave.”

“And I survived. Mostly because I knew you were looking for me. And what did you tell me the Kid said to you that time after you saved him?” When he didn’t get an answer, he poked his leg.

“I knew you’d understand.”

“See, he knew you were coming. And the others?” He waited, getting no response. “Think about it, Aaron. They never doubted for a minute that you, the others, that help was coming.”

Aaron gasped for a breath, his chest burned with the memories. “This is the lousiest non-nightmare dream I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah, well, it’s yours, what can I say?”

He let it finish washing over him, the memories of each of his ragtag family getting hurt, nearly dying. And then he remembered the afters. He remembered delivering groceries to Savannah, helping her with Derek when the drugs made him too loopy. He remembered the night he spent looking over Henry when he got word that JJ’d been having nightmares. He’d made both Will and Savannah swear to never tell of his involvement.

He remembered caring for Garcia twice. More than twice really, but the two big ones. Lying to her about hiring a cleaning company to maintain her apartment and then doing it himself and then years before, when no one had been looking, making sure the things she loved the most were on hand after she’d been through one of the worst moments of her life.

He swallowed dryly, on a mental roll now. There had been Emily, the list of things he’d done without her knowing had been…endless. And Spencer… Driving him to places with the firm understanding from both that he _couldn’t_ ask but he also _couldn’t_ leave him alone. Negotiating with the other teams to reduce their travel caseload for a while so their youngest could get his feet under him again. The call to Reid’s super…even with everything happening in his life at the time, he’d remembered that Spencer was living in a walk-up when he’d been shot and a call to the super had created a serious plumbing repair that had needed fixed, forcing Reid to seek living accommodations in Dave’s first floor guestroom for two weeks.

That one had ended up costing him 2 bottles of good scotch.

Thinking of his friend, Aaron finally raised his head and stared at him. “I never left the hospital. In Oregon.”

“I know.”

“How?”

Dave shrugged. “You know all those memories, they’re close to the surface.”

Aaron made a face. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

“Your brain created me.”

“It’s creepy as hell.”

“Think, Aaron. Think about after all of those moments that you didn’t want anyone to know about. Think about after Foyet.”

“I don’t like thinking about Foyet.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to think about _after_.” Dave waited as Aaron readjusted and took on a contemplative look. “You woke up in the hospital. And?”

“Prentiss was there.”

Dave nodded. “We were on a time sensitive case and with zero clues, two of your team managed to find you. And after that?”

He had to think on it a minute. “Every time I was there, one of you were there.”

“And the same went for Reid too. We were split between two hospitals, but that’s what family does.”

“But what does that have to do with…”

Dave put a hand up. “After we knew about the divorce? While Haley and Jack were gone? After…”

“Someone as never far away.” He’d never noticed that before.

“And after those secret moments when someone got hurt?”

“They…they knew. But how?”

He shrugged. “For all I know Penelope had a GPS tracker implanted in you somewhere. All I know is, you have never been alone. Not in your joys, your trials, your nightmares. And you’re not alone now.”

“Sure feels like it.”

Dave let out a frustrated sounding huff. “Because you insisted on hiding away in this place and not talking to a one of us. We’re not mad at you, you know that. You know how I know that?”

Aaron raised his brows in question, nearly yelping when his friend’s hands suddenly closed in around his jaws, pulling him forward.

“I know you know that because I’m here _saying it now_!” He didn’t let go. “You, Aaron Hotchner, are the most frustratingly stubborn man I have ever had the pleasure of having and a friend. I’m probably sitting at home right now wondering why the hell you won’t just call and _talk_ to me! If you’re not careful, I’ll eventually call Garcia and you _know_ if I do, the whole cavalry will arrive on your doorstep and I know I haven’t seen much of your place, but I doubt it can sleep an extra twenty or so people.”

Aaron paled at the thought of so many people trying to stay with he and Jack. “No. I’ll call, I promise.”

Dave patted his shoulder. “Promising me won’t do you any good, Aaron.” He stood and walked toward the bedroom door.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to go back to wherever dreams come from. But don’t worry, Aaron, I’ll keep an eye out for your nightmares. You won’t be seeing them for a while.”

“Thanks.” He replied automatically. Once he was alone in the bedroom, Aaron looked around and spoke to himself. “What the hell did I drink tonight?”


End file.
